Fiction...a tale in the making

He sat with his elbows on the counter, his head in his hands and his eyes closed. The noise of the people around him washing over him in waves. Conversations, orders being shouted, dishes being cleared, the sounds of the cars outside, the wind and the rain beating on the plate glass behind him, the bell ringing as people entered and exited, a cacophony of white noise coalescing into one something he felt he could actually feel envelope him as he sat with his head down. Flash of faces, places and colors danced behind his closed eyelids. Nothing seemed to linger long enough for him to bring it entirely into focus.

"Here's you coffee hun," as the waitress slid a saucer and cup on the counter towards him.

The aroma of black coffee brought him out of his revere and he looked up at the kindly face of a woman who had spent a career behind the counter. The look of concern on her face added to the ball of concern and anxiety growing in his stomach.

"Darlin, you look terrible," she said with a compassionate smile. " Can I get you something to eat? Food always makes things better and besides any man who looks like you can't have things going too wrong."

Her name tag said WANDA, she stood there just looking at him with the eyes of a concerned mother. The problem was that he couldn't find the words to speak. He didn't remember ordering the coffee or even walking into the diner. He just shook his head from side to side as he reached for the cup. With other patrons to care for, Wanda turned to grab the orders that were up to deliver to destined tables.

As the cool porcelain cup touched his lips the strong smell of the coffee wafted into his face. Before drinking, he inhaled through his nose with his eyes closed, tasting the bitterness of the burnt coffee beans which had been used to make this brew. Tilting the cup, the hot liquid assaulted his tongue and attacked the back of his throat, burning a path down to his stomach. The molten tar like quality of the coffee nearly brought him to his knees, only the counter and the stool he was sitting in kept him upright. But it also seemed to melt some of the cocoon he had felt himself trapped within. Up until now, he could sense the world around him, but felt a stranger there, not able to communicate nor interact in a normal way. The grimace on his face must have been readily apparent as Wanda turned from the other end of the counter and came back over to him. "You really don't look well, you haven't spoken a word since you showed up at my counter and now you look as if you've just drank a cup of battery acid. Sweetie, can I call someone for you? Do you need a doctor?" she said, looking around at the regular patrons, who were also now looking at him.

He put up his hand and again shook his head in the negative to stall her advance. The lingering pain of the first drink had brought on a realization. "Sorry," he said speaking the first words since she noticed him sitting so forlorn at the counter, " I normally don't drink it black, could I please have some cream and sugar."

The smile that broke across Wanda's face was like the dawning of sunrise after a cloudy night. Her composure brightened as she hurriedly grabbed the cream and sugar depositing them next to his coffee cup. She patted his hand and said, "well why didn't you say so in the first place? I was beginning to think that you couldn't talk at all?"

So was I, he thought. The rest of the people in the diner all went back to their own conversations and didn't give the man at the counter another thought, except one. She sat there at the opposite end of the counter. The newspaper in her hand a camouflage to allow her watch him without being obtrusive. It had taken a moment to pick her out from the crowd, but as she had lowered the paper to sip her own coffee, he had caught a glimpse of her long black hair. Had he seen her before? Try as he might his memory was still foggy and didn't seem to be getting much better. He didn't want to call anymore attention to himself, but the feeling of being watched by the raven haired woman dominated his thoughts. Maybe it was because he really didn't have any more pressing or coherent thoughts to focus upon, but whatever, he was drawn to her nonetheless.